


Sage

by faerierequiem



Series: Declan & Adam [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 07:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21316168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerierequiem/pseuds/faerierequiem
Summary: "In the end, what mattered most was that he didn’t feel inadequate now, and as he burst out laughing at Declan nearly choking on his drink, he knew Declan didn’t feel inadequate either."Adam and Declan spend a Sunday noon together in downtown Henrietta.
Relationships: Adam Parrish/Declan Lynch, Declan Lynch & Adam Parrish
Series: Declan & Adam [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536694
Kudos: 30





	Sage

Adam didn’t mind the walk from St. Agnes to Henrietta, but nice weather definitely made the walk more tolerable. This certain Sunday was warm and breezy and he happily welcomed it—especially given that this sort of summer-coated autumn day was going to be one of the last few remaining before winter finally hit. He was going to enjoy the sunshine while it lasted. Plus, wind that didn’t chill him to the bone didn’t come around too often.

He glanced down at the cargo shorts and faded t-shirt that he had on. He thought of Declan, who would be dressed in khakis and a button-up shirt like always, and he couldn’t help but compare. Unlike Declan, he didn’t dress to impress. (Not that he had the clothes to anyways.) He began to feel too casual and shabby. He knew it wasn’t fair of him to think that, since his clothes did fit the nice day and Declan came from church, but there was no use being rational. Comparing was second nature to him.

Looking up away from his outfit, Adam’s thoughts drifted elsewhere to the assignments he had yet to do that were due tomorrow, the plans Gansey had gone over with him on the phone about the next Glendower expedition, the joke he had heard Noah tell Ronan about the rabbit and the apple. A chuckle escaped from him as he recalled the punchline.

Downtown Henrietta greeted him with the crescendo of hushed conversations, the smell of food mixed in with heavily-scented pumpkin candles, and the bright flashes of neon signs announcing OPEN. It was all so familiar and yet Adam had never once felt as if he belonged in Henrietta. He was a constant passerby, sometimes a stranger or sometimes an acquaintance, but nothing more.

Adam caught sight of Declan across the street. As he was about to approach the crosswalk, he noticed the woman Declan stood talking to. Her back was to him, but there was something in the woman’s brown hair and slumped shoulders that held more familiarity to him than Henrietta.

Adam stopped walking. The world stilled in one, long second. Quickly, he ducked into an antique shop, out of Declan’s line of sight. _It can’t be._ He found it suddenly hard to swallow and breathe and even stand up. His body hummed with tremors, small but with the potential to become dangerous.

An old, wooden puppet perched on display next to him grinned as if it was in on the whole situation. Adam turned the puppet’s blank, mocking stare away from him. He shook his head. _It can’t._

Outside, Declan placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder before turning to enter the convenience store he and the woman had been standing in front of.

Adam watched the woman with such intensity that it stole all of his attention. He waited for her to turn around, so that his nerves could either be confirmed or relieved, but the woman did not turn around. She stood as still as a statue, staring at the convenience store entrance. He wondered what Declan had said to her.

By the time Declan came back out of the store, Adam had already read between and into every line of the woman, trying to disprove himself, but only ending up becoming even more and more lost. Her clothes were clothes anyone would have been able to buy from _Annie’s Shop_. Her hair wasn’t as tidy. Her frame was thinner, especially in the arms and legs. She could have been Declan’s age for all Adam knew, but that unshakable, relentless familiarity lingered.

“Excuse me, young man.”

Adam snapped back to focus, instinctively flinching away from the source of the voice.

A dark-haired woman approached him, hands clasped behind her back and eyes attentive. “You’ve been standing there for a while,” she spoke. “It doesn’t seem as if you are planning to buy anything.”

Flustered, Adam’s eyes flickered over to the wooden puppet. For a second, he almost contemplated buying it, but that was ridiculous. He didn’t know what use he’d have for it. He apologized to the shopkeeper before leaving the store.

Too late, Adam remembered Declan and the woman. Before he could even begin to look around for someplace else, he heard Declan calling out his name. “Adam! Hey, I’m over here!”

The woman peered over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were as wide and familiar as his.

Adam could not move, could not breathe, could not register anything else except that she was—in fact—his mother.

* * *

Declan was puzzled by Adam’s wide-eyed reaction, but he decided he could ask about it later and turned back to the woman. Only she was looking at Adam. He looked at her and back at Adam and to the woman again. Did they know each other?

He cleared his throat.

The woman turned to him, her face cast downwards. She appeared even more troubled than she had been when he first saw her.

“Here you go, ma’am.” Declan handed her the water bottle he had bought along with a plastic bag full of apples. “Please make sure to stay hydrated. I hope you don’t mind that I took the liberty of buying you some apples. You know what they say, ‘an apple a day keeps the doctor away’.”

“Yes.” The woman took the water bottle and bag. She stared blankly at the objects before giving him a small smile. “Thank you. I’ll be on my way now.”

Declan nodded. “Take care.”

A side of the woman’s mouth quirked upwards briefly. She walked off and turned the corner.

Declan looked over at Adam. He was still standing in the same spot, staring down at the ground as if all his darkest secrets had been written there in chalk.

Declan’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Quickly, he crossed the street and laid a hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Adam, are you feeling okay?”

Adam went rigid underneath his hand. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Did you know her?” Declan asked.

“She’s my mom,” Adam said.

“Oh.” Now it was Declan’s turn to widen his eyes. Of course she was his mother. He knew her eyes had reminded him of someone.

Adam looked up from the ground, his muscles relaxing. His expression was unreadable as he seemed to be correcting whatever had gone wrong inside. “Is there any specific store you want to visit?”

Declan glanced around. His gaze passed the convenience store he’d gone in, an antique shop, a laundromat, a clock store, and settled on a store with guitars on display in its window. “Let’s go there,” he said, gesturing towards the store.

Adam nodded.

Sensing he wasn’t much for talking, Declan launched into an account about when one of his professors had mistaken a permanent marker for the whiteboard marker. He got a halfhearted laugh out of Adam with the story, but Declan knew he’d failed in erasing whatever leftover effects Adam’s mother had had on him.

They entered the guitar shop.

“Do you play any instruments?” Declan asked.

Adam shook his head. “Do you?”

Declan smiled. “Why don’t I show you?” He spotted sight of an employee behind the counter and called out, “Would you mind if I played one of the guitars?”

The guy shook his head. “No, man. As long as you’re careful, go ahead.”

Declan surveyed the guitars before pulling a smooth, cream-colored acoustic guitar down from the wall. It had been a long time—too long—since he’d last played or even held a guitar and he almost worried that he was holding the guitar the wrong way, but once he got the guitar situated, left hand on the neck and right hand towards the body, he knew he was correct. There was nothing to worry about…

Although he was pretty sure he was supposed to tune the guitar, but Declan had forgotten how to do it correctly, so trusting that it had already been tuned, he stumbled through the first few notes of “Scarborough Fair”.

He had only gotten started on playing the “parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme” line when a horribly obvious wrong note sounded from the instrument at “sage”. He held back a wince, glancing at how his fingers were positioned on the strings. He could swear that that was the right way, but clearly he was wrong.

Out of the corner of his eye, Declan could see the guy at the counter looking at him in amusement. Hastily, he struggled to remember the correct finger placement, but only ended up almost dropping the guitar, which elicited a startled curse from between his lips.

Adam laughed. “That was a nice snippet,” he said.

Declan smiled, weakly. “It’s been years since I’ve played ‘Scarborough Fair’,” he admitted. “I used to be so good at that song. Both Ronan and Matthew were really good at music, but I guess the talent skipped over me or something, because I sucked a lot. I wanted to impress my dad so much, I spent nights practicing ‘Scarborough Fair’ until I got it right.”

Adam reached out a hand and ran it along the side of the guitar. “Was your dad impressed?”

Declan paused, remembering. “For a minute.” He turned to look at the guitar. God, what a sob story this was. He had to lighten the mood. “Apparently I’m a little tune deaf or something,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s a miracle I managed to learn ‘Scarborough Fair’ correctly.”

Adam gave him a small smile that reminded Declan of his mother earlier.

Declan shifted on his feet, uncomfortable under Adam’s too-watchful gaze. “Here.” He handed Adam the acoustic guitar. “Why don’t I teach you how to play something?”

“Oh.” Adam blinked, appearing almost surprised at the sight of the guitar now in his hands. “Okay.”

“This one’s really easy,” Declan told him. “I think you only need the bottom string there.”

“Are you sure you know how to play this one?” Adam teased.

Declan scoffed, pretending to be appalled. “If I don’t, then I don’t know what to say for myself. I’ve failed every guitarist out there. I would have failed the creator of the guitar.”

Adam let out a laugh. “Where do I start?”

Declan eyed the guitar, trying to figure out where Adam had to place his finger on. “Wait. Can I have the guitar back for a sec?” He asked.

“Sure.” Looking like he was trying to keep in a laugh, Adam handed him back the guitar.

Declan took it, tested out each note along the string, and pinpointed between which frets to use. He was grateful there were only three places to memorize.

Afterwards, Adam took back the guitar and Declan proceeded to show him the three places to press. Adam strummed out the notes, getting all but one of the notes correct. “Here?”

“No.” Declan guided Adam’s finger to the correct spot for the third note. “Here.”

Adam played it again, correctly this time.

Declan had been about to withdraw his hand, but then he reached back to press Adam’s fingers tighter to the strings. “Make sure you have a strong grip. Otherwise the guitar won’t follow. Be certain of yourself.”

Adam peered up at him. “For someone who hasn’t played a guitar in years, you’re a good teacher,” he remarked.

“I did think about majoring in education,” Declan deadpanned.

Adam’s eyebrows rose, believing. “Really?”

Declan shook his head and smiled. “I think I’d make as good a teacher as I do guitar player.”

“It is more difficult to play than I thought,” Adam said. “Especially holding down the strings.”

“If you’ve ever felt the hand of a guitarist, they don’t have soft finger pads. Their fingertips toughen up from playing,” Declan explained. “Play enough and your own fingertips will start to develop callouses, then it’ll be easier to play.”

Adam made a contemplative sound and glanced towards his hands.

“Okay. Let’s get back to the lesson, student,” Declan said. “Start playing from left to right along the string.”

Adam did.

“And again,” Declan said.

Adam did again. He looked up at Declan. “‘Hot Cross Buns’?”

“One and only.” Declan held back a smile. “I take it you can finish the rest of the song on your own?”

Adam rolled his eyes in amusement. He turned his attention back to the guitar and managed to figure out the rest of the song with only one mistake.

Declan clapped. “Bravo.”

“I have to be honest: I thought the song was going to be more life-changing than ‘Hot Cross Buns’,” Adam said.

“Hey, dudes!” The guy from the counter was approaching them. “Are you two planning on buying that guitar?”

Declan caught sight of Adam about to open his mouth, but too late, he had already replied, “I’ll buy it.”

“Awesome. Wasn’t sure if you two were just going to play me a concert or something,” the guy joked. “Are you guys interested in buying anything else? The store is currently having a sale on amps.”

Declan shook his head. “No, thank you.”

As they followed the employee to the register, Adam nudged Declan. “Are you going to start learning guitar now?”

“We both can learn,” Declan suggested.

“You did look cool when you were playing before.”

Declan grinned. “Maybe I should be a rock star.”

* * *

“Lunch is on me.”

Declan glanced at him. “Are you sure?”

Adam knew Declan was just pushing at his buttons, but he went along with it. “Of course I’m sure,” he said. “In case you forgot, you did just buy a guitar.”

Declan patted the guitar he held in his hands, enclosed within the case he had also bought. “And what a nice guitar it is,” he said with satisfaction. “I was thinking that we both can own it.”

Adam shook his head. “No thanks.” Playing the guitar had been fun (even if it had only been “Hot Cross Buns”), but he didn’t know how he’d be able to squeeze learning an instrument into his life.

“We both played it, so this guitar belongs to both of us,” Declan insisted.

“What kind of logic is that?” Adam asked.

They entered the sandwich shop. Adam noticed a few people looking at the guitar as they waited in line.

Declan nudged him. “This guitar is ours.” He was as relentless as Ronan. Of course Adam had noticed how Declan and Ronan were two sides of the same coin, but during the past Sundays as he’d gotten to know Declan better, he was beginning to realize just how similar the two Lynch brothers were to each other—their headstrong stubbornness definitely being a common trait.

He sighed. “Alright, but I’m not the one taking care of it.”

Declan smiled. “Should we name it?”

Adam stared at him. “The _guitar_?”

Declan laughed. “I’m kidding—”

“Sage.”

For a second, Declan looked lost. “Huh?”

“We can name the guitar ‘Sage’.” Adam smirked as Declan figured it out, but before he could say anything, the cashier was asking them what they wanted.

Adam ordered them a sub sandwich to split with fries on the side and two size-medium cups of soda. As they waited, Declan defended himself about what had happened earlier with his playing.

“So we’re not naming the guitar Sage?” Adam asked. He was enjoying this slightly aggravated Declan.

“No.” Declan straightened, all pride and poise. “Sage is a lovely name. We’re keeping it. Say hello to Sage.”

“I’m almost beginning to feel as if we adopted a kid,” Adam said, laughing.

One of the employees, handing him their tray of food, gave Adam a weird look as she heard his words. “Enjoy,” she said, quickly walking off.

“She should come and say hello to Sage,” Declan joked.

Adam laughed.

They found a table towards a back corner of the sandwich shop to sit in. Settling down across from each other with Declan setting Sage upright next to him, Adam split the sandwich in half and they began to talk of the past week, updating each other on previous stories or speaking of new occurrences that had happened.

When Adam retold Noah’s joke about the rabbit and the apple, Declan laughed hard enough to draw the attention of nearby diners.

“I didn’t know he had such a crude sense of humor,” Declan said in amusement.

As they conversed and ate, Adam found the moment dampened by memories of his mother standing across the street from him, staring back at him with her wide eyes, her hair untidy and looking more worn out than he’d remembered. Guilt trickled in him, staining his good mood, until it felt as if he was only an empty vessel for someone to pour all the old feelings into.

“Do you want to talk about your mom?”

Adam started out of his thoughts in surprise.

Declan looked across the table at him, his cup of soda raised to his lips, eyes observant over the rim of the cup. He lowered the drink. “It’s okay if you don’t, but if it helps to talk about it, you should.”

Adam hesitated.

“This sandwich is a bit burnt,” Declan said, switching the subject. He lifted the sandwich, showing off the bottom. “But it does add to the—”

“We can talk about her,” Adam blurted out, before he could stop himself. “I mean, I can talk about her and you can listen.”

Declan set down the sandwich. “I’m all ears.” The expression on his face was the one Adam had known him by before these Sunday meetings. It was the serious, all-work no-play trademark expression he wore whenever he had come around to speak about Ronan. It was strange to think that this was the expression that hid a guy who named guitars and bought water bottles for strangers.

Adam couldn’t look Declan in the eyes, so he looked down at his sandwich. He thought about what to say, but there was too much. “I don’t really know where to start,” he admitted.

“It’s fine,” Declan said, reassuringly. “Take your time.”

“I guess you think it’s weird that I was troubled by the sight of my own mom, do you?” Adam asked.

“No. I don’t.”

This threw Adam off. He looked to see if Declan was being serious, but quickly glanced away when he saw how intently Declan was looking back at him. “You haven’t seen your mom in while, right?” He asked. “Wouldn’t you be happy to see her?”

“I would be happy to see her, but I also understand how you feel,” Declan answered. He paused. “I get the feeling that you haven’t seen your mom in a while.”

Adam nodded. “I didn’t exactly come out today expecting to see my mom, so I was pretty surprised. And…” He trailed off, trying to find words. “Well, it was a shock. I don’t think either of us wanted to see each other the way we are right now. I know I don’t. I don’t want her to see me like this. She’s done a lot for me and I want to be able to do a lot for her. I want her to see me as capable and someone to be proud of, but I’m nowhere even close to that. All I am is this same feeling of helplessness that I’ve felt my whole entire life.”

He came to a halt, feeling Declan place a hand over his.

Despite himself, Adam remembered the feeling of Declan guiding his fingers along the guitar, pressing his fingers to the strings, his fingertips soft unlike the calloused fingers of the guitarists he’d spoken about. He took in a deep breath.

“A parent’s validation is very important,” Declan said. His voice was nearly a whisper.

Adam glanced up at Declan.

Declan appeared lost in thought, but when he caught sight of Adam looking, he gave Adam’s hand a small squeeze and smiled a small smile that made Adam realize just how much he probably _did_ understand. The story he’d told Adam about his father and “Scarborough Fair” hung unspoken in the air between them with today’s meeting of his mother, weighing with expectations and lingering parents who felt more alive in the mind than they did in reality.

Declan removed his hand from atop of Adam’s and suddenly, Adam found himself able to breathe again.

Declan reached for his drink. “Let’s have a toast for… Wait a minute. Let me come up with something.” He thought about it. “…For Team Feels Inadequate Because Of Many Reasons And Their Parents Being A Major One.”

Adam couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness and truth of it all. “That isn’t something we should be toasting with cups of soda to, Declan,” he said, but he raised his cup and was able to forget the guilt—even if only for this moment.

**Author's Note:**

> There needs to be more Declan/Adam fics where they can just enjoy each other's company and be endgame (PLEASE).
> 
> If you tumblr, check out the fic here: https://cosmiqueqi.tumblr.com/post/124695666286/the-raven-cycle-sage ~ and reblog/like!


End file.
